


Giggles

by throughthevoid



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Tickle Fights, fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5440391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throughthevoid/pseuds/throughthevoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Clara find themselves in the midst of a rather one-sided tickle fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giggles

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 240th birthday, Jane Austen! Thought I'd dedicate this to Clara's secret lover. Plus I maybe just used it as an excuse to write some fluff...
> 
> Headcanon: the Doctor doesn't like touching because he's secretly very ticklish.

"Clara, there is no way I'm watching another episode. If I see one more minute of this show I think my brain will turn into pudding."

The Doctor whined as Clara held the remote in her hand, the next episode of Pride and Prejudice rolling in the background. 

"I told you before, Doctor. Jane Austen holds a special place in my heart and I'm going to watch every film adaptation of her books I can find. And you're watching them with me." She grinned and he groaned again, reaching for the remote. 

"But we've been watching this for hours! Please, can we at least watch something decent? A documentary? A musical? A historically accurate movie? Anything?"

"Nope!" She relaxed against the back of her couch where they'd been sitting for the past three hours. But of course, to the Doctor, it seemed like three whole days. 

He sighed; why did he ever agree to this? Two words: Clara Oswald. If snuggling next to her on the couch meant watching hours of crap television, then he'd gladly do so. 

But was it really worth it?

His eyes drifted over to her lap where the remote rested, Clara's eyes fixed on the screen. He loved watching the wonder in her eyes as she followed the story; maybe instead of watching the show, he could simply watch Clara. He could do that for hours. 

But she was absorbed in the episode already, and the Doctor glanced down at the remote again. Slowly he inched closer to her and snatched the controller from her lap, and instinctively Clara yelped in surprise. 

"Doctor! No fair!"

"Yes fair!" The Doctor smirked as he changed the channel, landing on a documentary on deep sea creatures. 

"No, I was watching a show. Change the channel." "Nope. You need an intervention." "I do not, change the channel or give me the remote!" She reached for the device, but the Doctor's lanky limbs held it far out of her reach. 

"Just give it up, Clara. There's no way you'll get the remote from me. You're too small and your appendages simply aren't long enough to-"

He suddenly found himself being tackled by an armful of Clara Oswald.

He made a very unmanly sound as she reached for the remote, and he dangled it over the edge of the couch. She squirmed and stretched, grasping at empty air. "Clara, what are you doing?!"

"Give it back, it's...mine!" She flailed over him and decided straddling his waist would be the most effective tactic. With a little effort she reached for the device in his hand, unsuccessfully. He rotated and held her back with his free hand- she was stronger than she looked. 

"No! We've watched five episodes, Clara! It's time for a break!" 

"Just let me finish this last one!" 

"Not a chance!" 

The Doctor grinned and held it over their heads, waving it tauntingly. She reached up but to no avail; his stick-bug arms were simply too long. 

"Doctor, give it!" She pinned him to the back of the couch and he grunted as he connected with the plush couch pillow. Clara crawled up his body as far as possible, hand running up his arm in attempt to steal back the remote. And in response, the Doctor did the strangest thing. 

He giggled. 

Clara's eyes glimmered with mischief as she slowly sat back on her haunches. "Doctor..." She started, hands on his chest, his head cocked in confusion. "Are you ticklish?"

At once his eyes widened and he held the remote close to his body, an act of defence. "No! I'm a Time Lord, Clara. Superior biology. We don't get 'ticklish,' that's just a human thing!" 

"You sure?" She smirked, wiggling her fingers against his chest. He swallowed a smile and squirmed.

"I swear!" 

And suddenly her hands were on his stomach, tickling him senseless. 

And the Doctor, the Mighty Time Lord, lost it completely. 

"Clara!" He gasped, giggling madly. She'd never seen a wider smile on any living being, let alone a more adorable laugh. 

"Give me the remote and I'll stop this," she told him, moving her hands to his sides, a dangerous zone. 

"Never!" He clutched the device in his chest before breaking out into another wild fit of laughter under Clara's onslaught.

She loved the way his eyes crinkled and his wrinkles became laugh lines; his giggling filled her ears and it was all she ever wanted to hear ever again. So Clara was relentless. He squirmed and writhed beneath her and she tickled him senseless, hands on his sides and his belly and his exposed neck. Here was the Doctor, the Rebel Time Lord, the Oncoming Storm, the ridiculously oblivious and grumpy old alien. And under her attack he laughed harder, giggled longer, smiled wider. It was a rare sight. 

"Stop! Stop! Mercy! Take it!" He finally cried, tears running down his cheeks from the force of her onslaught. 

She snatched the remote back and changed the channel, returning to her show with a satisfied smile. "Ha. Gotcha."

He gasped for breath, a grin still carved on his face, chest heaving. She ruffled his grey curls; they were a disheveled mess as it was, but she couldn't resist. "You sure you're not ticklish, Doctor? Shall we test again just to make sure?"

"No! That's quite alright, Clara. Now look, you're missing your show!" 

She chuckled; he grumbled under his breath. But a smile still rested on his face and his eyes betrayed his false grumpiness.

"Next time you'll listen, Giggles. Never deprive me of Jane Austen." She earned one last little laugh from him as she tickled his neck lightly, as if daring him to defy her. 

"Yes, Boss," he agreed eagerly. She wrapped her arms around him with a cheeky grin, and as her eyes returned to the screen, the Doctor swore he'd never touch the remote again.


End file.
